The Girl Behind The Curtain (Hidden Women) by Stella Knightley Page B
Authors: Stella Knightley
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and kindly this evening. I had a smile for everyone. No wonder my tips went up.
When I had my break, I spent it at the side of the stage, watching Otto play the piano. I could watch him for days. He is so beautiful to me. I love everything about him. I love the shape of his head as he bends over the keys. I love his big hands and his strong fingers as they wring wonderful music out of the battered old piano that is never quite in tune. I love how serious his face looks when he’s giving the rest of the band their cues. Of course, my imagination is already in love with the bits of him I haven’t yet seen as well!
So, he walked me home again. This time, we didn’t wait until we were outside the Hotel Frankfort before we kissed. Instead we chose a far more romantic spot, just under the railway bridge. We kissed for ages. My lips are quite chapped and sore. We only stopped when the church bell sounded three and Otto said his mother would be worried that he hadn’t yet come home.
We hurried the rest of the way and outside the hotel is when he asked me.
‘I was wondering,’ he began.
‘Whatever it is, I’ll say yes,’ I interrupted him.
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ He grinned.
‘Now you’d better tell me what you’re proposing.’
‘Tuesday is your night off, yes? I have asked Schluter if I may have a night off too. He has agreed. And since we both have a night off, I wonder whether I might take you to the Haus Vaterland?’
I clapped my hands together in joy. I have heard great things about the Haus Vaterland. It’s an enormous palace of entertainment on the Potsdamer Platz, bigger and more amazing than anything they have even in New York. I have been itching to see inside. Though I wonder how Otto can possibly afford it. Schluter is a kind man but he certainly doesn’t overpay us. Still, I decided that was a question that would have to go unanswered. Otto wants to take me out and he wants to take me somewhere wonderful. I feel I can be sure now that the kiss was not one of those spur-of-the-moment things that turned out to mean nothing very much. Otto really, really likes me.
Berlin,
Tuesday 5th July 1932
Our night at the Haus Vaterland was everything I had imagined and more. We had Schluter to thank for that; he knows several of the staff at the Haus. Some of them used to work at the Boom Boom. They all remember Schluter fondly and so they were more than happy to be of service when he asked if they could make sure our evening was special.
If the building looked amazing on the outside, it was like something from a dream once you stepped through the doors. The different floors were arranged according to theme. There was a Wild West bar with cowboys and Indians and a Bavarian beer garden with an artificial lake. But Schluter had made sure that Otto and I would experience the most spectacular show the Haus had to offer.
We made our way to the Rhine room. I had heard people talk about it, of course. It was the stuff of Berlin legend. But I was still so surprised when I walked in to see an actual river. A river! Almost as wide as the Rhine itself. On one side of it was a model of a ruined castle. There were even little boats!
A waiter, dressed in the traditional clothes of the region, showed us to our table on the riverbank.
‘My father would love this,’ I said. ‘He’s a keen fisherman.’
‘I don’t think there are any fish in there,’ said Otto. ‘But I wouldn’t be surprised.’
I wouldn’t have been surprised either. The attention to detail was astonishing. I was agog. I wondered how long it had taken them to recreate the Rhine in this corner of the city. Trees grew out of the floor. From time to time we heard cowbells. I was certain I even heard birds tweeting.
The only things that reminded us we weren’t actually on the banks of a real river were the beautifully laid tables and the elegantly dressed customers who sat at them. I was wearing my ‘one and
When I had my break, I spent it at the side of the stage, watching Otto play the piano. I could watch him for days. He is so beautiful to me. I love everything about him. I love the shape of his head as he bends over the keys. I love his big hands and his strong fingers as they wring wonderful music out of the battered old piano that is never quite in tune. I love how serious his face looks when he’s giving the rest of the band their cues. Of course, my imagination is already in love with the bits of him I haven’t yet seen as well!
So, he walked me home again. This time, we didn’t wait until we were outside the Hotel Frankfort before we kissed. Instead we chose a far more romantic spot, just under the railway bridge. We kissed for ages. My lips are quite chapped and sore. We only stopped when the church bell sounded three and Otto said his mother would be worried that he hadn’t yet come home.
We hurried the rest of the way and outside the hotel is when he asked me.
‘I was wondering,’ he began.
‘Whatever it is, I’ll say yes,’ I interrupted him.
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ He grinned.
‘Now you’d better tell me what you’re proposing.’
‘Tuesday is your night off, yes? I have asked Schluter if I may have a night off too. He has agreed. And since we both have a night off, I wonder whether I might take you to the Haus Vaterland?’
I clapped my hands together in joy. I have heard great things about the Haus Vaterland. It’s an enormous palace of entertainment on the Potsdamer Platz, bigger and more amazing than anything they have even in New York. I have been itching to see inside. Though I wonder how Otto can possibly afford it. Schluter is a kind man but he certainly doesn’t overpay us. Still, I decided that was a question that would have to go unanswered. Otto wants to take me out and he wants to take me somewhere wonderful. I feel I can be sure now that the kiss was not one of those spur-of-the-moment things that turned out to mean nothing very much. Otto really, really likes me.
Berlin,
Tuesday 5th July 1932
Our night at the Haus Vaterland was everything I had imagined and more. We had Schluter to thank for that; he knows several of the staff at the Haus. Some of them used to work at the Boom Boom. They all remember Schluter fondly and so they were more than happy to be of service when he asked if they could make sure our evening was special.
If the building looked amazing on the outside, it was like something from a dream once you stepped through the doors. The different floors were arranged according to theme. There was a Wild West bar with cowboys and Indians and a Bavarian beer garden with an artificial lake. But Schluter had made sure that Otto and I would experience the most spectacular show the Haus had to offer.
We made our way to the Rhine room. I had heard people talk about it, of course. It was the stuff of Berlin legend. But I was still so surprised when I walked in to see an actual river. A river! Almost as wide as the Rhine itself. On one side of it was a model of a ruined castle. There were even little boats!
A waiter, dressed in the traditional clothes of the region, showed us to our table on the riverbank.
‘My father would love this,’ I said. ‘He’s a keen fisherman.’
‘I don’t think there are any fish in there,’ said Otto. ‘But I wouldn’t be surprised.’
I wouldn’t have been surprised either. The attention to detail was astonishing. I was agog. I wondered how long it had taken them to recreate the Rhine in this corner of the city. Trees grew out of the floor. From time to time we heard cowbells. I was certain I even heard birds tweeting.
The only things that reminded us we weren’t actually on the banks of a real river were the beautifully laid tables and the elegantly dressed customers who sat at them. I was wearing my ‘one and
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